


Again?

by ForASecondThereWedWon



Series: Oh my god, they were checkmates... [4]
Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tension, deviates from canon in ep. 5: Fork, is this more friends to lovers or enemies to lovers?, post-speed chess scene, you tell me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/pseuds/ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary: As if humiliating her at speed chess weren't enough, Beth hears Benny calling after her when she flees to her room.
Relationships: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Series: Oh my god, they were checkmates... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020483
Comments: 51
Kudos: 367





	Again?

**Author's Note:**

> _My heart was captured/My soul surrendered_ \- Elvis Presley

“ _Beth_. Beth! Wait! Beth, wait!”

She walks fast and because she’s _excellent_ at walking fast, far better at speed _walking_ than speed _chess_ (as she demonstrated; for money; in front of an audience), she stays ahead of Benny’s voice. Her face is pinched in annoyance as she hurries down the dorm’s hallway. All the spying faces that peered out from their lonely little rooms the first time she passed peer out again, but this time, heads snap back to their chessboards when curious gazes meet the tragic fury of her eyes.

Benny’s shoes slap the floor—is he _running_ after her now?—and he doesn’t lower his volume, though he’s almost caught up to her. Why should he be considerate enough to take other people’s comfort into account? Other people’s need to study and sleep? He’s Benny Watts, for Christ’s sake!

Beth fumbles with her key, nearly dropping her empty coffee cup in the process. The damn thing batters against the door as she finally gets it open and tears the key back out of the lock.

“ _Beth_.”

She’s taken one step into her dorm and he’s there. Rigid, she strides to the nightstand and slams her cup down, then wheels to face him. His hands are braced in the open doorway.

“What,” Beth demands, crossing her arms, “did I short you?”

“Huh?”

“The money, Benny. Did I miss a dollar and you felt it was worth chasing me down for?”

“You’re angry.” His chest heaves once and he nods, as though to permit her this emotion. She sets her jaw.

“You made a fool of me.”

The last thing she wants is to let any tears of frustration escape, so she spins away, shrugging her coat off and tossing it across the bed so hard that its large buttons hit the wall with a _click_ and she hopes she hasn’t cracked any.

“We don’t even know those peop—”

“To _me_ ,” she explains, turning to him again and gesturing with the full length of her arm. “You made a fool of me to _me_.” Her self-contempt abates for a moment and she grips the edge of the door. “I’d suggest getting the hell away from me before I shut this door on your fingers.”

Benny—the arrogant ass—shrugs.

“It’d be hard to play chess with broken fingers, but I could always move the pieces with my mouth instead. I’m sure it’s been done.”

“And I’m sure you could tell me by whom and in which year,” she bites out, now attacking his memory, the chess history backlog he carries everywhere inside his head. It’s not even a quality that bothers her, except that, right now, every single aspect of Benny is fair game. Not that he’d know a fair game if it smashed all his fingers in a doorjamb.

He hangs his head.

“I took it too far,” he concedes, “but you—”

“But I…?”

Without raising his head, he flicks his eyes up to meet hers, disheveled blond hair swaying.

“You walked in the room. You came over when I called you. You agreed to play.”

Yes, she did, but Beth shakes her head because Benny’s oversimplifying.

“No.”

“Yes,” he insists. “You were here in your room with your board and your books, you got bored, and you came to find me.”

She scoffs.

“What?” Benny demands.

“Your vanity knows no bounds, does it?”

“Don’t be defensive, Beth, it was going to be one or the other.” When her livid expression falters into confusion, he continues: “You don’t think I’m tired of playing those two every night? If you hadn’t shown up, I would’ve been knocking on doors looking for a decent match. Looking for you.”

She rolls her eyes and clenches the door until her knuckles turn white. Benny takes it in with a glance that could almost be concerned if he hadn’t pushed her to this state of irritation in the first place.

“It’s too late to flatter me.”

“It’s the truth,” he says, leaning farther into her room, like he can crowd her with emphasis. “You know what else’s true? That you agreed. Every time. I asked you and the more I asked, the more you wanted to beat me.”

“A more humane player would’ve come to that understanding and considered it grounds to adjourn,” Beth argues, shoulders back as she leans into his space in return.

“Yeah, well, I’m not humane, I’m shrewd.”

“Can’t you see that some of what happened, how I feel, this argument right now… is your fault?”

The sweet scent of apple juice hits her, alongside the smell of his body; for as confidently as he played, it seems she made him sweat. And she’s a hypocrite—condemning his lack of compassion one minute and relishing his uneasiness the next.

“I’ll accept my responsibility when you accept yours,” he suggests sarcastically, cocking his head. “Game after game, Beth. Don’t you know when to stop?”

“Not usually,” she mumbles, and lurches a few inches forward to kiss him.

His warm mouth compresses under the force of hers, but the realization that he’s not kissing her back strikes her the same instant as the realization that she’s kissing _him_. She’s never kissed a man who isn’t cleanshaven before. Just as she pulls away, she feels Benny’s chin tilt forward as his lips finally catch against hers. She blinks quickly, face still close to his, baffled as to where this leaves them. Her eyes find his. She frowns thoughtfully, playfully.

“Again?”

Benny’s hands jump from the doorway to the sides of her face and he walks her back with his momentum, kicking the door shut behind him. Her back collides with the wall and his hands drop to her waist and hip. He draws himself into her like a cellist huddling against their instrument, head angling to the side as he insinuates his tongue into her mouth with electrifying delicacy. Beth lifts her arms and wraps them around the back of his neck, open to him, bowing forward until they touch at their chests, their stomachs, their hips. The guy from her Russian class was mostly convenience, Harry was his care combined with her curiosity. Benny lights up every part of her.

Beth gets the hang of his rhythm and strokes her tongue across his, winning a clipped groan when she sucks. His hold on her tightens—those quick-fingered hands digging in. _Will we?_ she wonders. They could. They could twist the lock on the door and advance on each other. That’s what they’ve been doing tonight anyway. She presses herself against the heat and conviction of his body and sneaks her leg up the outside of his, bare skin rubbing denim. With feverish kisses, Benny makes the big jump, comparable to sweeping a rook the full eight ranks of the board, and grasps her thigh. He hitches it up to his hip and rolls against her with a shudder that stands the hair on the back of her neck on end. Their mouths slide apart and she exhales his name.

Abruptly, he’s releasing her leg and taking a tottering step back. Beth confronts him with a hard warning look as her arms are forced to fall from his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“I… hmm. This is not a good idea. I’m being humane.”

“Stop,” she orders, half-smiling because he must be joking. “This is a terrible time to reform.”

“I have to get back,” is Benny’s lame excuse as he takes another step away from her. He scratches his cheek with one finger. “I left my jacket.”

Beth snorts.

“Oh, your jacket.”

He opens the door.

“ _You_ ran after _me_ , remember?” she says, planting a hand on her hip. “According to you, I went to the cafeteria to play chess with you. Why did you follow me to my room? It wasn’t to apologize.”

Benny grins and steps out into the hall.

“To say goodnight.”

Exasperated, Beth closes the door after him. She taps her foot in aggravation and thwarted desire, clicks her tongue, then smiles to herself as she whispers, “But you forgot to say it.”


End file.
